The Rise of A Warlord
by ferretWARLORD
Summary: The story of the burning vengeance of a deserter who's past finally catches up with him, destroying all that he holds dear.
1. Chapter 1: Ashes to Ashes

He felt his heart stop as he finally erupted from the brush, the wood cutter he had in his paws falling from to the ground as he saw his family outside the ruins of their home. Their bodies were slashed and their clothes were torn as they dangled from the nooses that hung from the apple tree. He let out a choked whimper as he felt bile rise up in his throat at the sight of their necks, wrenched and stretched out in awkward positions, the eyes of his daughter and wife staring at him lifelessly.

Falling to his knees the vermin felt a sickening, ache in his stomach as tears began to well up in his eyes and trail down his snout. His hands, trembling with remorse and shock, went to grasp his stomach as he openly wept. Not a few feet away from the tree where his family now hung was his home, already a layer of black coating the walls as fire crept up to the thatched roof, until that too erupted into flames and it was nothing more than a huge flame.

As the support beam of his house finally gave away, and the black walls of the simple hut caved in on each other, sparks cascading into the sky, the mustelid looked up at his daughters face. She was always such a delicate girl... His gaze shifted to his wife as he felt raw hatred begin to seep into his soul, consuming his heart. The bastards didn't even leave her the locket he had given her, nor had they spared his daughter...

His fist pounded into the dirt as the fire crackled and snapped as it devoured the walls of his home, his dreams, and the last bit of hope he had left of starting anew. His breath began to get ragged as he sucked in air between clenched teeth, tears flowing from his eyes as he clenched his paws into tight fists, feeling blood slick down his palms and between his fingers as his claws cut through his skin.

And then he screamed. He screamed as he pounded his fist continuously into the dirt with veracious tenacity until his knuckles were bleeding and his throat was sore, and then he gave way to his grief and laid down, curling up into a ball underneath the footpaws of the only creatures that actually meant something to him in his life. And there he wept until he finally fell into a deep pitiful slumber.

In his sorrow he didn't even realize the curved dagger lodged in the chopping block, a note skewered on the blade which read:

_To Kova Northwind,_

_Due to committing the horrid and dishonorable act of desertion from the high court of Lord Cavan, you have stained your reputation as an officer in the eyes of the Cavan Empire of The North and it's people. Thus, all who join you are to be punished with death and you are to live you life out in grief and sorrow. Sorrow that you gave up on the chance of a life time. Good Day._

_Sincerely,_

_Officer Raftan J. Whip_


	2. Chapter 2

The rays of the sun slowly fell behind the horizon, dragging the warming light of life away from the lands of Mossflower, and plummeting the souls who dwelt within into darkness. The only light among this blackened wasteland was a single torch, which had been driven into the ground by a tall black ferret, who now busied himself with driving a cross into a grave. The grave of his late wife. Next to that was a smaller looking mound of dirt, which now held the body of his daughter.

And as he drove the second cross into the dirt, he stared longingly at the mound, and prayed,

"Dear Martin, guide my wife and daughter through the path of the dark forest, and into your arms..." Then, as he ended the prayer with a whisper to his loved ones, he felt a horrible feeling in his gut, as if some beast had just rammed a dagger up to its hilt into his belly. Falling to his knees with a pitiful cry of despair his paws grasped the cross for support as he let out a choked sob.

As tears once again began to trickle down his cheeks the ferret punched the dirt mound and let out another yell of anguish, falling into another fit of sobbing as memories began to flash through his mind once more of his wife the day before.

_"Oh Kova! To think your going all the way out there with no scarf?" The weasel scolded him as she prodded his chest with a spoon, a warm grin on her face as she turned away from him, her fluffy tail brushing against his face as she dug around in a chest behind her. Sniffling he grabbed the tail and shoved the thing away, which only flew back into his face to tickle his snout even more. Blowing air out his snout to rid himself of the fluffy devil he side stepped to his left to avoid the tail, getting a rather good view of his wife as she was bent over the chest, angry muffles coming from slender female as she rummaged around the clothes._

_"To think you out of all beasts who would forget to... ah ha!" Her mumbling was cut off by a victorious yell as she rose up from the chest with a dark green scarf, snapping the ferret out of his trance and making his eyes snap away towards a painting on the wall as she giggled and threw the scarf in his face. "And you call yourself an honorable warrior!"_

The soft, gentle and caring voice slowly warped and faded as he felt himself dragged back into the painful reality of the present, the past nothing more than ash and dust in front of him.

"Why? Why?! WHY!?" The ferret screamed as he punched the dirt mound again and again with each word, making his knuckles bleed as he reopened wounds in his anger as he realized that it was all gone, nothing more than memories.

Thats when he saw it, shining in the light of the torch next to him to his left, protruding from the chopping block next to the fire wood. A curved dagger, with a polished ivory handle and a large capital "C" etched into the butt. Anger began to flood back into him as he realized who this dagger belonged to, and baring his fangs the coal black mustelid crawled over to the block of wood and plucked the weapon free. He knew who this belonged to. Only one beast alive carried a dagger with such a fine, almost artistic look to it. Raftan James Whip.

Standing up the ferret slid the weapon into the belt of his trousers, exhaling deeply as he looked over at the two mounds once last time, whispering as he tried to hold back tears,

"I will avenge you both. That's a promise..." And as the ferret slowly made his way down the dark path, the light of the moon illuminating his black glossy coat, he began to imagine the faces of the other officers he had left along with Raftan.


End file.
